Requiem
by shatteredjewels
Summary: Some things even a Hero cannot defeat.


Disclaimer: I do not own Zelda. Shoot.

**Requiem**

Sometimes I find myself looking back on those happier times. Back when you and I were just two crazy people who found themselves with the chains of destiny wrapped around our wrists. It wasn't so bad. Though sometimes we got tired of everything. I got sick of being a Hero, of never being allowed to fail in anything, struggling to live up to the expectations of legend. You got tired of being a Princess, of constantly putting on a façade and acting out a lie, pretending to be what you weren't for the sake of politics. And you got tired of being a Sage, of having so much power. Tired of people knowing that you had power. Tired of duty. And tired of taking care of me.

Sometimes I accused you of using me. I look back and regret the harsh words now. We were both so hot tempered, and when you screamed at me, I couldn't help but let the bitterness out.

We were still happy, though. We always worked it out and found ourselves laughing and bickering and playing jokes on Impa and getting caught, yelled at and lectured together. Happy.

And then you got sick.

It didn't seem serious, at first. Impa wasn't sure of the cause, none of the Sages were, and they all simply suggested that you fight through it, trusting to the Goddesses that you would be okay. After all, it wasn't that bad. Here and there you would have to stop and catch your breath and you were a little more tired than usual. No big deal, we thought it was just stress affecting your body.

And then that night. You were so beautiful. I remember feeling the hot jealousy as all the courtiers whirled you around the dance floor in that blue dress, your hair glistening with sapphires. You were untouchable, a divine being in midst of mere mortals. Though you would have probably beaten me senseless if I had ever voiced the comparison.

And then you fell.

I had to fight like a demon through the nobles crowding around, gasping and simpering. The women clung to the men and fluttered their fans and they were all just painted fools. I knocked aside the ruffles and the lace and lifted you in my arms, glaring at everyone around me even as I carried your still form out of the grand hall and up the stairs to your apartments.

You were so light.

I was still optimistic. When I set you on the bed, Impa already ready with cool cloths and smelling salts, I didn't even consider that I was placing you on your deathbed.

The next few months were hell for everyone. Day by day we watched as you wasted away. We watched as you became so pale that your veins crisscrossed in patterns across your skin, so thin that your ribs poked painfully out of your stomach. Your skin lost its glow, your hair's coloring dulled and your eyes lost their sparkle. You tried to fight. You still smiled through pale lips and let out weak laughs, assuring us that you'd be up in no time.

You were going to be okay.

But then you started coughing up blood. You started having spells where we couldn't sooth you, where you would thrash and scream at things only you could see. I would hold you, even as your fists flailed into my face, even as you wailed in your sleep.

I remember the night when you finally lost your hope. It was raining, and lighting flickered in flashes of fire through the window. You were sitting quietly, propped up by pillows and my shoulder, listening to the rain.

And you started to cry.

I just held you and let you soak my tunic with your tears, knowing that it was no use anymore. I was a Hero. I was supposed to save the world from all evil, fight for the lives of my friends and family and people.

But I couldn't save you. I couldn't fight what was killing you.

You cried yourself to sleep, and I held you through the night. Held on to you as though my grip could keep you here, keep death from coming to steal you away.

But I couldn't save you. I couldn't fight what was killing you.

Some Hero.

I can remember the tightness in my stomach and chest when Impa came to my room and told me it was time to say goodbye. You were lying down, pale as death as I came up to look down at you. You smiled up at me once more, and reached out to touch my hand. I started to cry, even as I knelt and brushed your lips with mine. You looked up at me, and lifted that thin, discolored hand and swept away my tears, your own eyes sad and filled with regret that you couldn't stay with me.

And I choked out that it was okay to die.

Your eyes widened, and then you understood and whispered a soft thank you. Your eyes filled with peace as you looked at me and said goodbye for the last time.

And then your eyes closed.

And I cried. And screamed. And raged.

It wasn't fair that it was you to go. I was supposed to die first, protecting you. Always me first. I'm a Hero. Heroes never outlive their Princesses. They protect them with their own lives.

But I couldn't save you. I couldn't fight what killed you.

I wanted to kill the people at your funeral. The ones who spoke of the Royal Princess Zelda, the Defender of the Triforce. Oh, they painted that image. They only spoke of your wisdom, your graciousness, your beauty. How polite and sweet you were, how magnanimous and divine, and how you would have been a lovely queen.

None of them knew the real you. None of them had seen you shoot a bow, or ride or horse with the wind whipping through your hair, or knock me from my own horse when I won a race. None of them had ever known your dry humor, felt your sarcasm. None of them had ever seen your mischievousness smile when you snuck out of the castle to go dancing in a tavern. None of them had ever seen you in an icy rage, cool with your eyes narrowed and your words laced with frost. None of them had ever seen you playing in a thunderstorm, laughing and twirling in the downpour as you drank in nature's glory.

None of them had ever seen you cry.

But they never would. Because you were gone. And you weren't coming back.

I couldn't save you. I couldn't fight what killed you.

Some Hero.

**Author's Notes**

I wrote this today. Normally I like to let work sit for a while and edit it and play with it later, but I think this one kinda wrote itself and I don't really want to change it. Where did it come from? Last night, I was listening to the song "The Autumn Effect" by 10 Years. It was around one in the morning during a thunderstorm, and the music that the song ends with just touched me. So we ended up with this.

And I hope you enjoyed it!

SJ


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